In Sickness and In
by kabensi
Summary: Finn feeds Rachel meat, then calls Quinn in a panic when Rachel gets sick. Faberryish. Based around events in 3x05.


"I did something stupid."

It takes everything she has not to just respond, "No shit." Her second thought is that it's too late for him to be apologizing for anything, but she knows that can't be what this is about. She replies with the third thing to cross her mind, which is, "What did you do, this time?"

"I, uh, accidentally gave Rachel a little meat."

Okay, she's so not into hearing about whatever sex games they play, but then she's pretty sure that's not what this is about. Even if Finn were the type to use euphemisms, she doubts any high school guys would refer to any business as "little."

She focuses on the other half of the sentence. "Accidentally?"

"Yeah, well... we kind of had this special night planned and I made dinner and... I just forgot she doesn't eat meat."

"Finn, she's vegan. She's always talking about how she's better than the rest of us because of all the animal lives she's saved. How can you forget something like that?"

"She doesn't do that to be mean. It's just important to her."

"Well, you're the one who made her eat her best friends."

"Quinn, this is serious. She's... locked in the bathroom."

"She's probably pissed."

"No, she doesn't even know about it. We had dinner and we were over by the fire, you know, and-"

"I'm really not into secondhand phone sex."

"Yeah, sorry. But we didn't even do it like we planned. We got into this... I don't know... not really a fight. But-"

"Wait, like you planned?" She knows it's not even her place to ask, but she can't stop the words from escaping her mouth.

"Look, Quinn, she's really sick and I'm really scared and I don't know who else to call, right now."

She wants to leave him to clean up his own mess, because it might be worth it to let him self destruct. But if Rachel really is sick because of something stupid that Finn's done, she doesn't want the other girl to, like, die or anything. They're kind of friends, for now.

"I'll be right over."

When she gets to the house, Finn meets her at the door. "Thanks."

"Yeah. Where is she?"

"Hall bathroom."

She stuffs her car keys in the pocket of her cardigan and moves past him toward the shut door in the hallway.

"Rachel? It's Quinn. Are you okay?" Her hand attempts to twist the knob, but it's locked.

After a moment, though, there's a click and the knob turns. Rachel's on her knees and as soon as the door's open, she shrinks back toward the toilet.

She looks like shit.

Quinn puts a hand up to stop Finn from rushing into the bathroom. "Give us a minute." Finn nods, though he still has this look on his face like he ran over a puppy or his football team lost or something. She slips through the open door and shuts it behind her.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this. I'm overwhelmed with regret and it's made me physically ill." Rachel has one elbow propped up on the edge of the bathtub and a hand shielding most of her face.

"It's... not the end of the world. You don't ever have to do it, again."

"I doubt even I have that kind of self control."

"You've done it this long."

"But that's only because I kept the possibility at a distance. Now that I've been so close to it, I doubt I'll be able to think about much else."

"You don't think that's a little over the top?"

"I honestly don't. I can't even understand how you manage to stay away from it after your... dalliance."

"Me? I... never gave it up. I had some, like, an hour ago."

"Really? But I... Who?"

"Uh, didn't really catch it's name."

"So, you're saying this was anonymous?"

"That's how most people do it."

"I must be delirious. I have to be."

Quinn pulls a paper cup from the small dispenser on the counter and fills it with water. "Maybe you're dehydrated," she says as she passes it to Rachel.

"Are you at least careful? I know we aren't close, but I do worry about you, Quinn."

"Careful? Like what, with organic stuff? Yeah, usually. Most of what Mom brings home is from usually organic, I think."

"Quinn, I'm going to have to ask you to stop there, because I don't believe I can handle any further information."

"Okay, Rachel, you just ate meat. You didn't suffer a concussion, so stop acting like you're trying to win an Oscar or something. It's not that big of a deal."

"I didn't eat..." Rachel's eyes widen. "It wasn't meat substitute, was it?"

Quinn shakes her head. "He still didn't tell you?" _Damn it, Finn._ She wets a washcloth and kneels down to press it against Rachel's face. "Here, this always helped when I had morning sickness."

Rachel accepts the cool cloth against her skin and mumbles into it, "Why would he do that? He knows..."

"He doesn't always remember things."

"Or think of them at all."

Quinn chuckles. "Yeah, well. He usually manages when it's important."

"Or knows who to ask."

There's something about Rachel's tone that makes Quinn question the statement. "Like what?"

Rachel peeks at her from behind the washcloth. "Nothing."

"He didn't ask me what to make you for dinner, if that's what you're implying."

"No," Rachel uncovers her entire face. "Not about that..."

"Then what?"

"He just... wanted to do something nice. To do it right. So, I helped him."

"You helped your own boyfriend do something right? Welcome to the club."

"Not now. Before. When you two were..."

Quinn's mind shifts into overdrive as she suddenly searches through any memory she has of Finn doing something nice for her and actually doing it the right way. The only thing that really stands out is, "Prom."

"It was just the corsage. He didn't know what kind and I just steered him in the right direction."

"I should have known he never would have picked that out himself."

Rachel's response is to lean over the toilet bowl and dry heave. That's kind of how Quinn feels, so it works out.

It's not until Rachel sits back up that Quinn realizes she was holding the other girl's hair back.

Maybe they're friends or something.

The former feels more appropriate than the latter.

She's not really sure why.


End file.
